Azkaban Thief
by Eclipze
Summary: A terrible screaming surrounded him, he was insane, hell, everyone was in this hell hole. Betrayed by everyone, Harry is sent to Azkaban. But then, one day, he finds something that he never noticed before. England, he was free.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own Siruis Black, or Azkaban, or Fawkes, or England for that matter, or anyone or anything else mentioned here. I think it would also be very safe to say that I also do not own the plot. Vi.

Authors Note: okay, before I just posted this for the fun of it, but hey, I might just continue it. Yeah, this was written a long time ago. What the hell? Im supposed to be doing homework…but it's pointless… and Im just winging this fic, so, if you like it, thumbs up for you! Im mainly only doing this cuz I like writing, and this is like, practice….:s.

Also thanks to Lisa aka Ides of March for being my beta reader.even though you never read this one before. (and I am not imitating you! Read above.if you are reading this)

* * *

A yelling, screaming. Within my head, ringing in my ears.

_Not Harry, please, not Harry. Have mercy._

_Step aside you silly girl, step aside._

I tossed around, my hand clutching at thin air. My eyes snapped opened. Not that it was much better. Screams were still engulfing my thought. Making me senseless, not that I wasn't already. I was insane, as was everyone else in this hell.

Who couldn't be? I shivered, I wrapped the thin tattered, filth filled cloak around myself as I huddled in the damp mold filled corner. I heard waves crashing next to me, haunting, sickening waves. I struggled to not fall back into the oblivion. A white coldness started to overcome me. Quickly, I just thought of how miserable being here was. It was a brilliant strategy to make them ignore you. But thoughts of Sirius still raised within my mind. Visions of his death.

But as I was looking down, I noticed something I havent for the past 5, I think, months I have been here. It was under my hard wooden bed. A narrow, inconspicuous strip of wood. I would've ignored it if it didn't look like it. It was a wand. I bent down, my bones creaking, and grabbed it. It was a wand, wrapped around it was a piece of parchment.

_Those loyal to the Lord shall be free. This is my spare wand I have smuggled in. The Dark Lord shall RULE! Go back and claim your loyalty my fellow Death Eater. _

Lucius Malfoy

So that was how he escaped, but my mind was spinning with ideas, I could be free. Fresh air engulfed me once more. Refreshing me, allowing myself to wake up. I was FREE!

I wasted no time, they locked these locks the muggle way since the dementors couldn't do magic. A whisper of 'alohomora' was all I needed. I quickly dashed to the storage rooms, my memory never failed me, especially since seeing your Firebolt getting locked away wasn't a good memory. They kept all the prisoners belongings in the storage rooms, everything that wasn't in their vault at least. My school trunk would be in there, it was guarded by two guards, which I easily taken out.they were sleeping.

I searched everywhere for my trunk, first by cell number (54d) then prisoner number (11443) and finally by alphebetical order of last name. I wasted no time in shrinking my trunk, after I took out my Firebolt. Suddenly I heard a screech, cold was overcoming me again, the dementors were gliding up to me like magnets. My eyes widened in shock, of course, I was feeling happy.

I threw one of my legs atop my Firebolt and flew out.there were guards outside of the prison too. I was being trapped. Then I heard a song, a song that I havent heard in five years, the phoenix song. Fawkes was here. The dementors backed away, now, for the wizard guards.which were easy since they were too scared to do anything. I glanced at the far away land looming over the horizon. England, I was free.

* * *

Okay, Ive received a lot of reviews concerning the wand, yeah, Lucius Malfoy spelled it so only people loyal to the lord, or have lost all hope and are broken and will do like, anything to get out can find it. So, its only now that Harry has even bothered to see it.

Review, and yet again I do not own anything at all.


	2. He's escaped

A/N: So I decided to continue it…actually not really. I felt like writing a story, but was a tad too tired and lazy to think up plotlines and characters. So I bumped into this on my computer – and being in the mood for writing decided to write a bit. So you guys better hope that I start getting a very uneventful life or else I wont update. That and a new keyboard as this one is messing up.

* * *

Harry wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, huddling in a dark corner. The sun shone brightly even in the dark, dank, depths of Knockturn Alley. Harry narrowed his eyes, inspecting each lowlife that passed by. Sometimes, you had to do something wrong to survive. Whispering a quiet ­_accio_, Harry caught the small velvet pouch of a passing wizard. Weighing it in his hands, Harry smiled, satisfied – the man was looking for something rare and obscure.

Making sure his hood effectively covered his face, Harry stepped out onto the street – first things first, a place to stay…and some food while he's at it.

* * *

Auror Davidson closed his eyes, bracing himself as he transported to Azkaban Island. Although he loved and prided in his job, as do most aurors, he dreaded every time he had to come and do guard duty. The ministry certainly weren't lacking in aurors – however, due to the nature of Azkaban and its residents, few applied for guard duty there. Hence forth, the rotation system was developed to provide guards for the prison.

As faint screams entered his ears, Davidson opened his eyes, only to see the previous guards knocked out on the floor. Sleeping on the job wasn't an uncommon occurrence; Merlin knows he's done it a few times, however sleeping on the floor? That reeked of something out of place. Narrowing his eyes, he quickly cast two _ennervates_ at them.

A feeling of panic slowly crept up his spine at every word his fellow aurors told him. His eyes widened, an icy grip clasping his heart tight to his chest as it beated furiously. A dark cloud loomed over his head as the words started to sink in, along with the fear and the despair that came with it – Potter, has escaped.

* * *

Harry frowned down at his food as the waitress serving him winked lasciviously at him. Eating the grey grub at Azkaban could turn anyone away from food and make them eat anything short of Hagrids rock cakes – including cardboard. So, after taking a hesitant bite, found Harry shoveling down the food – not caring if he choked or swallowed the food whole. The food tasted heavenly for him, and Harry was oblivious to the fact that the walls around him were peeling, the ceiling was dripping, the torches spitting and illuminating the grime that slicked the tables, he was even oblivious to the pair of eyes leering at him from the shadows.

Clearing off the chipped plate that in a previous life might have been white, Harry exited the restaurant, leaving behind a silver sickle for the cheap meal.

Harry made sure his hood was on as he stepped onto the cobbled streets of Knockturn; the sun was slowly setting, casting a calming suspense around the streets. Few people were out as Knockturn made its transition from day to night. Soon, instead of potions masters looking for an elusive ingredient, or beggars trying to scrounge up dropped knuts – lurkers, creatures of the dark, and night walkers would roam the streets crowding the tiny alley with all sorts of...unmentionables. The true residents of Knockturn Alley emerged at night, and with them the rumours that caused fear upon many a citizen. Harry had yet to find a place to stay. Getting desperate, he crossed the street, teetering on the borders of Knockturns red light district; he entered a tiny hotel, squished between two stores.

* * *

Ron sat in the den of The Burrow, it was after dinner and he and Ginny were splitting a plate of cookies over a game of chess. Hermione sat curled in a chair by the fireplace, reading. The twins had dropped by that night for dinner, and Bill was staying over the summer. Fred and George had in fact, taken up most of the den with random scraps of parchment, constantly whispering and making furious gestures with their quills. Bill had gone into the kitchen to help out Mrs. Weasley, who was waiting for their dad to come back from the ministry.

"Knight to E5"

Ron grinned triumphantly as his knight butchered his sister's rook. Ginny frowned – not liking the way the game was progressing, and looked at the family clock; Arthur's arrow was still pointed at work.

She decided to point out the obvious, "Dads still at work"

Ron took a glance at the clock, and shifted a bit, "Yeah, I know Gin."

She gave her brother a funny look, "What?"

Ron bit his lip a bit, as if wondering whether or not to tell her, finally deciding he said, "It's just that, it must be something really serious, Dads never had to stay at the Ministry this late, even when Sirius escaped."

Ginny glanced down at the board, "Yeah, I figured."

Hearing their conversation, Hermione looked up, "I'm pretty sure we'll find out pretty soon Ginny. If it's something big, the Order is sure to know."

Ron nodded his head in acknowledgement, looking over at the twins; they were still immersed in the parchments that lay in front of them. The banging of pots and pans signified that Bill and Mrs. Weasley were still washing the dishes. It almost seemed like they were the only ones conscious of the problem. A sudden click came from the clock as a hand moved from work to home, a second later a pop erupted around the room, and their dad appeared before them.

His hair was in disarray, and his face ashen and white. He collapsed onto his armchair as if all energy was drained from him. He sighed, and his mouth twitched, unsure whether to smile or cry. He rubbed his face as Mrs. Weasley came bumbling in.

"Oh Arthur, what happened to you? Stay here I'll get you some soup." As she was about to turn around, Mr. Weasley stopped her.

"No, the soup can wait. I have something important to tell you all now. I don't know whether it's good or bad. But I ask you guys to not panic, it was a long day at the ministry and I'm extremely tired." He took a deep breath in as he looked around, pausing at Ron and Hermione, "It might be better if you guys were sitting down for this, and I ask you to please, don't interrupt me."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and sat down, as did anyone else that was standing. Mr. Weasley took another breath in, as if preparing himself for what he was about to say, "Today, at 9 o'clock in the morning the guards of Azkaban were found unconscious and a prisoner had escaped – we still don't know how he did it, and its going to be all over the prophet tomorrow, no matter how hard we try. But I must tell you – and I beg you all to not do anything drastic when you hear who it is that escaped, I ask you all to remain rational. But the prisoner, the person who escaped, it was Harry."

Perhaps even the gnomes died from shock as no sound was heard…only ragged breathing as the current residents of the Burrow tried to absorb the new information.

Finally Hermione asked a question on everyone's minds, "What will happen to him when they find him?"

Arthur closed his eyes, dreading this part, "The same thing that was to happen to Sirius."

The answer was apparent in everyone's minds, The Kiss, it was something that even Voldemort feared. To have your very soul and essence sucked out by a dementor.

Ron however, could feel anger building up in him, "But he's innocent."

Hermione closed her eyes, but how could they prove it? It wasn't like they hadn't spent the last year trying to.

"He's innocent." Ron echoed, the Weasleys were grim, knowing what Ron said was the truth.

"Fudge doesn't believe that Ron, as does the rest of the Wizarding world." Arthur tried to explain to his son.

"HE"S FUCKING INNOCENT!" Ron screamed, jumping up from his seat, and then he stopped, a new thought coming on. "We have to find him."

Arthur looked up, "Ron -"

"We have to find him." With that, Ron swept out of the room; a slamming could be heard as he entered his room.

* * *

Meanwhile, thousands upon thousands of owls were released, each clutching an identical package, each with the identical headline – _'POTTER HAS ESCAPED'._

_

* * *

_

Okay, so what'd you think? Sorry if there are some mistakes, im simply way too tired to edit, a process a loathe so much that...Id rather eat brussel sprouts (pulls face).

I actually don't know where this story is going anymore as I left it so long ago, to be precise I wrote the last chapter (which was to be a one shot) over two and a half years ago. So Im deciding to just write whatever I feel like happening…if Im writing a chapter then. Some of you might think this is a tad stupid, and I should plan it out. But I might just abandon it so why plan it? On the subject of abandoning…Im actually considering handing this fic off to someone. If they are still interested as I find myself losing interest – therefore, updates are less often. So if you're interested tell me, if not, Ill just give it to the person I already have in mind..maybe.

Now about the last chapter – it was supposed to be blunt and short and in jabs…kinda like not thinking clearly and only certain thoughts come to you but in like jabs. Now seeing as how I wrote it two years ago…I wasn't very successful. Which brings me to the point of writing style…it is going to change. Maybe through every chapter, maybe even during the chapter, this story (if I continue it) is not going to be a easy read, its going to change constantly as this story has no base therefore allowing me to experiment and write during my very lazy but I feel like writing stages. If I feel like angst Ill write angst, but maybe after four paragraphs I feel like humour, ill throw in the humour. So expect change (especially if I hand this fic off to someone).

Now about the fic, what did Harry do to go to Azkaban? Good question, and let your imagination go wild as I don't plan on telling you anytime soon…if at all. However I'll tell you something, Harry deserved to go, and even if he didn't, he would've ended up there anyways. But how bout Ron? Well, Rons also right. I shall leave you to dwell on that.

Meanwhile, REVIEW!


	3. Knockturn

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the franchise. They belong to JK Rowling.

A/N: Yeah, so here is the third chapter. And no, I won't apologize or give you a reason why this story hasn't been updating. Anyway, although the rating of this fic is T, it has potential to become M. This chapter, while not M rated, is a bit higher than a T – in other words, if you're like 12, you shouldn't be reading this, instead, you should be playing with your unicorns and transformers. Mainly cause 12 year olds bug me.

* * *

Harry gasped, cold sweat dripping down his face. Panting hard, he groaned as the springs of the bed squeaked painfully. He cursed loudly when his head collided violently into a wall while he was getting up. It was still dark. 

Groping for his wand, Harry quickly whispered _Lumos_. He squinted as the light temporarily blinded him. He walked towards the washroom, intending on washing his face. The taps didn't work. They shrieked as their rusty, half-decayed knobs were turned and sputtered piteously. A wry thought flew into his mind of another set of malfunctioning taps and briefly imagined a snake carved out in front of him. He exhaled, it was about time to go anyway; he glanced up at the mirror. The mirror also appeared half-decayed and brief flicks of his eyes told him that the same went for the bathroom and the other room. He never cared much for his appearance but as he stared at the gaunt, grey visage in front of him, eyes sunken, skin waxy looking and clinging desperately at his bones, he couldn't recognize himself. He shouldn't be surprised really; it was how Sirius or Bellatrix or even Malfoy, who had only stayed in Azkaban for a month, appeared after they themselves have escaped. He leaned forward, piercing green eyes roving over his features; he puffed out his cheeks and sighed when it did nothing to make him appear more like the pre-Azkaban Harry Potter. He leaned closer towards the mirror and rubbed at a random splotch on his face until he realized that it was, in fact, a part of the mirror. He nearly smacked himself for his stupidity and headed back into the other room.

It was nearly time to go. He patted himself to make sure that all his belongings were still on him. Waving his wand around the room he wiped the room clean of anything that could be led back to him. He double checked his pillow for strands of jet black hair that could potentially be placed in Polyjuice or some other identity identifying potion that he never bothered learning about. Satisfied, he whispered a quick _Nox_, drenching the room in darkness before pushing open the window. Across from him, barely three feet away, stood another window surrounded by twisting black railings that sat atop the windows ledge. He gave a brief glance upwards, three stories, that wasn't so bad. Harry silently berated himself, _'you have done this before!'_ Taking a deep breath in, he balanced himself precariously on the windows ledge. Reaching over, his hand tingling from both anticipation and fear, relief rushed over him as it grabbed firmly onto the opposite windows railing and he hauled himself over to the other side. Turning around Harry waved the wand again, eliminating all possible traces of his presence and slammed the window shut. Stuffing the wand into his pocket he reached up to touch the upper windows ledge, getting a firm hold, he took advantage of the small gap between the buildings, jamming his feet into the brick walls and hoisted himself on to the upper windows ledge. Gripping tightly onto the railing, he pulled the wand out and waved it again, eliminating all traces behind him. Shoving the wand back into his pocket, he reached up for the second ledge.

* * *

_The Burrow…_

Hermione bit her lip as she approached Ron's room. Shuffling and crashes could be heard from the door, as if someone was destroying it. She rubbed her face, what a nightmare.

"Ron?" She knocked on the door before she opened it. The spangled orange walls glared at her; covered in parts by loud, zooming Chudley Cannons posters. But she was used to that, she was also used the chaotic messes that lay in piles around the floor. However she was still stunned by the sight that greeted her – but in all honesty, she shouldn't be. This was Ron, what else did she expect to happen if Harry broke out of Azkaban?

Ron was ransacking his room into such disarray that an ocean of rubble seemed to line his floor. Only his bed remained safe, but it was still buried under a pile of items that were deemed important enough to salvage. Currently he was gripping tightly onto Harry's invisibility cloak.

"What else? What else… what else… oh! Marauders Map!" He threw those items onto his bed too. He appeared to be picking up random items before throwing them back onto the floor – contributing to the rising rubble level. He picked up the binoculars that were sold at the World Cup before throwing them onto the bed too.

"Ron…every single Auror will be sent to look for him. If we get caught…" she choked, not wanting to think about the consequences.

Ron froze, his fists at his sides clenching. When he turned around, a storm seemed to have settled around his face. "So what, you're just going to let them catch him? Sic the Dementors on him to give him a nice big kiss? WHAT THE FUCKING HELL HERMIONE!"

Anger blossomed into her in defense, "DON'T – DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT! I CARE JUST AS MUCH AS YOU! BUT IF WE'RE CAUGHT RONALD, NOT ONLY ARE WE SCREWED, BUT OUR FAMILIES ARE SCREWED!"

"Bloody hell Hermione," Arms wrapped around her, "I know that, but we've been through this before and we can do this again. Harry needs us Herms. He's not going to survive a month out there if they start searching for him."

Tears have sprung form her eyes, she felt so stupid. The boys could never handle her crying, although Ron was somewhat better than Harry. She felt so horrible for putting Ron on the spot, "I'm sorry Ron, you must think I'm horrible."

Ron smirked at her then, "That's where you're wrong 'Mione." He led her towards the bed, "You're brill, and you know that. Come on and help me pack."

Hermione smiled bitterly, "Oh Ron, I'm so scared – how could he be so foolish? D- Do you think he's okay? After all those months in Azkaban…" She trailed off as a cold chill settled over her spine.

Ron's face was ashen as he too, was forced to remember the lugubrious island. "I'm sure he's fine." He tried desperately to convince himself of that fact, but until they received word and saw him themselves – there would be no answer to that question.

Hermione practically snorted when Ron said this, shaking her head as she felt new tears welling up in her eyes, she grabbed a Kleenex from a nearby box and blew her nose.

Ron, taking this as his cue, stood up and started to rearrange the pile of paraphernalia on his bed. "Come on Hermione," he said, hoping to distract her, "we need to get this stuff to him."

Hermione smiled gratefully at Ron, knowing what he was trying to do. Turning around, she grabbed the invisibility cloak and started folding it in half. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her, "Um, Ron? How are we going to get this to him?"

Ron paused for a second, "I was thinking the Pepsi machine, at Camden? I mean he'll check there, it is our Drop off…" He trailed off as he realized the possibility of Harry not going to the Drop off.

Hermione frowned, "I want to see him Ron."

"We can't, Harry's escaped – the Ministry suspects he'll contact us first, we're going to be followed."

She bit her lip, "Not if they can't find us, or – or if they have no authority – if we're not in this country."

Ron could've groaned, in fact, he literally felt his stomach sink into the floor and get squashed underneath his feet. "Not _him_."

Hermione stared pointedly at Ron, "Yes _him_. He's alright now Ron, honestly. And if Harry's where I think he is; then he's going to cross the Channel sometime this week…we need Chunnel tickets."

"We could always hide him out at Hogwarts." Ron muttered under his breath.

Hermione shot him a fierce glare, as if to say _'How stupid can you get?'_

Glancing at her, Ron sighed, "Fine, I get it…still doesn't mean I want to go see _Malfoy_."

Hermione, clever as she is, decided to ignore this statement, "Come on, lets get this stuff to him…we'll need to buy the ticket tomorrow."

* * *

_Knockturn Alley…_

Harry crouched on top of the building, the cool night air blowing gently around his flushed face. Lewd displays of flesh danced in panes of glass, fingers curled beckoningly at the audience standing in the dark street. Expansive amounts of bare skin glinted in the dim light as their owners twisted and turned in various provocative poses, enticing the spectators to spend their days pay. Couples ventured in and out of various narrow alleyways, some satisfied, others eager to trip out. Harry took a deep breath in, his chest thrumming to the numerous beats that drifted into his ears. He shivered as the thrill of the sheer illegality of the place sent a rush down his spine. In some ways, he had missed this place – in many ways he didn't, it didn't help that he got arrested here either; the Prophet went on a field day.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Harry glanced over at a trapdoor to his right. If he remembered correctly, then he was at the right building – if not then he'll have to spend money and time that he did not have. But not daring to cross the street, Harry lifted open the latch and dropped himself into the room below.

"What the FUCKING hell man! FUCK! Get off the FUCKING table wanker!"

He had landed on a line of pixie powder; which actually consisted of the feathers from an Augurey and a Fwooper, crushed Billywig wings, dried monkshood, Alihotsy leaves, various ingredients from the Pepper-up potion and other stuff that he didn't know and didn't care to know. Though, he was pretty sure no one who actually took it cared much for its ingredients – they were all after it for its effects.

He was roughly shoved off the table, his head bouncing off the floor.

"FUCK! Shit, it's gone - you bloody wanker! I got that tonight!" He was punched in the face.

Harry groaned as he tried to roll away from the rabid druggie, but he was held to the ground by his shirt as more punches landed on his face. Finally gathering his strength, he punched the man back, in the face – hard. The man slumped to the side as he blacked out. Harry got to his feet and brushed himself off, he looked down at the man – he looked familiar.

Suddenly, a wand was at his back, "Hands where I see 'em bastard."

Spinning around quickly, Harry grabbed the feminine wrist of his attacker and twisted it behind her, plucking the wand from her grasp. Staring at her face, he quickly smiled, "Roxy, hello."

Roxanne Veras was a Knockturn prostitute, for lack of better word. Although 'tease' would be a better fit as she was best known for her connections and her in-the-know information about everything and everyone in the Wizarding World… at least, the stuff that matters and the stuff that no one should know – though, they're usually the same thing. She was also the ex-multi-night stand of one Draco Malfoy.

"Fuck me," she breathed, Harry raised his eyebrow, obviously catching the double meaning of her statement. She on the other hand, ignored his expression, instead choosing to stare at him in awe, "How the fuck did you get out?"

He gently let go of her arm, "That would be thanks to Lucius Malfoy."

"Fuck, really?" she rubbed her wrist; marks from Harry's fingers had started to appear.

Harry nodded absently, choosing an overstuffed cushion to seat himself on. Turning around, he saw that Roxy was still staring at him. He waved his hand in front of her, it did the trick. Snapping out of her haze she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a pack of Blacks. Tapping it against the box, she placed it in her mouth and lit the tip.

Letting out a puff of smoke she looked back at him, "He's not here."

Harry reached over and took the box of fags from her. Pulling out a thin, black stick he gently touched the tip of his cigarette to hers, lighting it.

"Where is he then?" he took a drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs before hacking it up again. Azkaban changed a person.

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him when she replied, "France. South coast, Provence, I think. He owns a villa there, having the time of his life apparently. Parties and sleeps – nothing else."

Harry wasn't surprised; it wasn't like Draco to do any actual work. "What happened to you guys?"

Smoke drifted out of her lips, forming a ring in the air, "Nothing happened, we're still friends. He had to leave, not long after you got arrested actually. He's wanted now too."

Harry sat up at that, "What? But there's nothing to accuse him of!"

Roxy smiled sadly at him, "Actually, there is. They're pushing aiding and abetting."

Harry snorted, "How bout you then?"

Roxy only smirked and studied her nails, he knew what that meant. Connections.

Harry sighed, flicking his cig and watched the ash fall onto the floor.

Roxy reached into her cleavage and pulled out a note, "Here, Draco told me to give this to you. Seemed to know that you would break out. It has all the information you need in it."

Harry quickly folded it open and scanned the contents, his chest weighing down as he continued reading it. Folding it back up, he stuffed it into his pocket. "You had contact with Ron and Hermione?"

Roxy looked apologetically at him, "Not recently no, last time was helping Draco move out of the country. They still believe you're innocent you know. They're not going to abandon you for a few articles from a lousy paper. Actually, several people in the wizarding world believe you're innocent."

Harry rested his head on his hands, "Who?"

Roxy shrugged, signaling that she had no clue, "Small bunches of people, of course not that many want to admit it."

Harry jerked up, dropping his cigarette. He stared at the red mark forming on his finger where the fag had burnt him; it had burnt to the nub.

"Shit tomorrow, I really have to start running."

Roxy nodded, "You should go to the Drop Off, it's still in use. Ron and Hermione probably have left something."

Harry nodded absently. It'll take him close to three days to get to Draco's villa. He'll have to go to Camden tomorrow and hope that Ron and Hermione had placed something useful there for him in order to maintain any hope of outrunning the Aurors. Times like these he cursed himself for not becoming an Animagi.

Roxy placed several things in front of him. "You shouldn't use any magic until you get there. These should help you out." Harry stared down at the pile in front of him; it contained concealer, foundation, coloured contacts, sunglasses, a hat, and a pair of scissors.

Roxy glanced at her watch, "The hours nearly up, I have to go. I would've dyed your hair for you, but there's no time…unless, you want to pay me?"

Harry raised his eyebrow at her, "I'm on the run, I don't exactly have any money."

Roxy shrugged, "You know how to use the concealer and everything yeah? You can crash here, but leave before six and stay behind the couch. Also, cut your hair. Oh, and you owe Mike and I 2 grams of pixie."

Harry glanced down at the guy, "That's Mike?"

Roxy glanced down too, "Yeah, it is. Now go behind the couch while I wake him up. Oh, and stay quiet if any of the other girls use this room – I don't think they will, but just in case."

Harry climbed over the couch, squishing himself into the enclosed corner. He sighed – tomorrow would be at a whole new pace.

* * *

Hey, thanks for all your reviews – they did actually help me write as they would randomly pop up in my email. 

Shock! Horror! Harry's not a goody two shoes! Hahaha. And yes, you'll see Malfoy in the next chapter, even though I don't plan out this fic, there are some things that I know. I love Malfoy, great character…until JKR slightly wimped him out in DH. Either way, he's a great character cause there's so much growth that you can add to him…quite unlike Harry – whose character is quite defined and AU writers like me have to keep him believable yet different.

Sorry bout Roxy – she was supposed to be way different…but she refused. I think it was the name…but it's quite hard to think up a good name that can also be used for a hooker. To console you of the horror of having to read her, I'll let you know that this is the only time that she will ever appear… I think. Either way, you won't be meeting her again soon or often.

And to let you know, if I do discontinue this fic, I will post up a note…however, that note will probably seem very delayed compared to the time I update.

Review!


	4. Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the franchise. They belong to JK Rowling.

A/N: Well, here's chapter four, haven't got much to say about it really. Bit sooner than my usual, and a bit longer than my usual, so you guys should be happy. I have to admit, it is harder to write an Azkaban fic where people believe that Harry is still innocent – wait I shouldn't say that. It's harder to write when Harry isn't as betrayed. This chapter didn't exactly turn out the way I want it, but I've learned to trust my pen. In my opinion, it's turning out a bit too lighthearted, but as I'm working on a dark, elaborate, noirish story – I guess this kind of becomes my reprieve. Well, you're not here for a journal entry, on with the plot!

**Chapter 4: Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger**

**Potter's Escaped!**

- Rita Skeeter

_At dusk yesterday, Azkaban Prison experienced the breakout of its most infamous prisoner: The-Boy-Who-Lived. Profligate Potters imprisonment was initially met with much controversy – many unwilling to believe that our boy hero had deserted us. However, those of you who had been following his descent – faithfully brought to you by this honest reporter, will have to admit that we had seen this coming. However, even this reporter, who had been keeping a close eye on Potter, failed to realize his true allegiances until it was too late. There had only been one other escape from Azkaban Prison in its long and notorious history, the Dark Lord's closest confidant: Sirius Black. After a strenuous amount of research, this reporter has uncovered a horrifying secret – Sirius Black is Harry Potter's godfather. Not only that, but had, in fact, been in close contact with our Saviour since he was thirteen years old. Is this why our Saviour has deserted us? Was he so starved for affection and the desire to know his parents that he turned to his father's traitorous best friend? Did Sirius Black reveal the secret to his escape? How many more are there to come?_

"_Citizens must remember that Potter is extremely dangerous and unstable." Says Minister Fudge when questioned on how the public should react to this new threat. "It is still uncertain how Potter has escaped from Azkaban, but we have reason to believe that he is headed towards Germany. The proper officials in France and Germany have been notified and we are doing our best to capture him. In the meantime, we must remind citizens that while Potter may appear charismatic; he is in fact, very dangerous and should be reported straight away." This reporter heartily agrees and would like to advise citizens to stay far away from Potter, consider the events of his arrest._

_Potter's best mate, Ronald Weasley, who is now dating Potter's not-so-faithful ex-girlfriend Hermione Granger (from The Triwizard Triangle between Potter, Granger and Krum) were unavailable to comment on such short notice. No indication on how Potter will react to this betrayal by his former best friend._

_---------------------_

Harry groaned in pain. He couldn't move. Not only could he not move - he didn't want to move. Harry groaned in pain again, screw running away. He'll just lie here, and if the Aurors ever found him, hopefully they'll just think he died. How the hell did Sirius survive this? Oh right, he was a dog – all he had to do was crawl around, no scaling buildings in imitation of Spiderman. His arms felt like elephants had rammed their tusks through their muscles and decided to hang from them.

Suddenly, a bucket of hot water was poured on top of him. His eyes snapped open only to rapidly blink the water away. He then felt a warming charm followed by a drying charm hit him. Harry tensed his shoulders, feeling his muscles start to loosen. He lifted his head slightly – groaning at the effort that it took him, he felt like an old man.

Roxy stood before him, eyebrows raised. "Up you git, you're supposed to be gone by now. Up!"

Harry groaned again as he climbed onto his knees. _Fuck_, what he wouldn't give for one of Severus' potions right now. He got onto his feet only to have them collapse underneath him, causing his head to make a spectacular bounce off the floor. He groaned again. He was never going to get to France like this. Harry stared at the hand that suddenly appeared before him, recognizing the red polish; he grabbed it to be pulled on to his feet.

"Thanks" he muttered, he felt his chin being grabbed roughly as his head was turned downward. He noticed that Roxy was ranting furiously as she madly dabbed at his forehead with, he realized, makeup.

"Do you know how fucking late it is? Do you care? Fuck Harry, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_…hold still."

He felt her finger gently tug on his lower eyelid as a contact lens was placed on his eye. The same happened on the other eye.

"You should be so happy that no one else here has your prescription – these are still yours." She shoved several items into his hand. "You only have one other pair, so you better get to Draco's tomorrow else you won't be able to fucking see."

Harry nodded numbly – still flexing his muscles to get them working.

"Um…it's 7:00am now, so you really should get going. Uh, give this to Draco for me."

Harry glanced down at the tiny wrapped package in his hand and smirked. "Totally immune to the Malfoy charm my ass."

Roxy snorted, "Yeah, like you totally were."

Harry blushed, "Shut up." Harry glanced back at Roxy's face. "Thanks."

Roxy smiled back at him, knowing that one word meant and thanked for a lot more than just getting him ready. She awkwardly patted his shoulder, "Yeah… you really have to go. I'll see you sometime, yeah?"

Harry leaned over to give her an even more awkward hug, "Yeah, we will. Stay safe okay?"

Roxy snorted, "Harry, this is the best bordello for a reason." Harry groaned and rolled his eyes. "Yeah I know, lame joke. But still, you should be more careful than me Harry, watch out okay?"

Harry nodded and gave her another hug, this one less awkward.

"Say sorry to Mike for me, I'll pay him back later."

Roxy nodded, "Good luck Harry."

Harry took a deep breath in and exhaled, "Yeah, counting on it."

-----------------

"Sseverusss!"

Severus Snape forced his mind to clear as he broke the formation of the uniformed circle. He bent down, kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes as those gleaming red eyes burned into him.

"Sseverusss, did you know about this?"

The potions master kept his eye down as he knelt at the Dark Lord's feet. "No my Lord, the Order had no part in breaking Potter out."

"Mosst curiouss. How about his little friendsss then Sseveruss. How are they going to…assist him?"

"I don't think they are my Lord."

Voldemort's eyes flashed, "You fool! _Crucio!_ I ssend you to find out information Sseverusss – you incompetent sspy! These are Potter's _friendss_, of course they are doing _ssomething_, and you're supposed to find out! I'm severely disappointed in you, you're becoming more Gryffindor."

Severus gasped for air once the curse ended. "Forgive me, my Lord. Weasley and that mudblood are scared to do anything because the Ministry has started tracking them," Severus dared a glance at a window. It was bright already – sufficient time. "They may have gone to a drop off. To my knowledge, there is one at Camden Market."

"Good Severuss, I was starting to worry. _Crucio!_ You may be a master Occlumens Severuss, but whatever information you gain you report to me!"

Severus convulsed on the floor, writhing in pain as thousands of white hot knives pierced him. When the curse ended, he composed himself again.

"Rookwood, Lestrange and Malfoy, go with Snape, arrange a team to go to that filthy muggle pigsty."

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"Davidson! Emery! Mallory! Where are those reports?"

"Shacklebolt! Where is Auror Tonks?"

"Trackers! Where the _fuck_ are the _fucking_ trackers?!"

"Where's my team?"

"_Oh my god, _Potter's escaped! _Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod…_"

"Who has Potter's profile?"

"Is anyone following Granger and Weasley? _WHO IS FOLLOWING GRANGER AND WEASLEY?!_"

"COFFEE! WE NEED THE _BLEEDING_ COFFEE!"

A gofer rushed into the conference room, levitating five platters of steaming coffee behind him. Levitating clearly wasn't his strong point as he left a path of screaming burnt aurors behind him. Hundreds of paper aeroplanes crammed through the opened door, bombarding the frantic aurors erratically.

"Someone SHUT THAT DOOR!"

It was a madhouse; the trained department of witches and wizards was rendered inoperative. Someone rushed to the door, slamming it closed. Paper was flown everywhere and sparks emitting from wands burned holes through the precious information. The Auror Division of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was useless, if the aurors weren't panicking in confusion, they were still half asleep. It was freaking four thirty in the morning, no one wanted to be awake.

"_SILENCE!_" A loud whistle echoed through the room, everyone stopped and stood to attention.

Gawain Robards stood at the head of the room, "Wake up you imbeciles and grab a cup of coffee. Panicking like a bunch of five year olds. I want five teams out on field. One of you will be following Granger and Weasley; two of you will be going after Potters known locations; and the remaining two will be sent to guard the coast. POTTER CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO CROSS THAT CHANNEL!"

People started panicking again and the distinct hum of voices started to fill the room.

"I said _SHUT UP_ you bloody wankers! I don't trust the French, a bunch of flaming pompous arses if you ask me. They won't do anything to capture Potter." Robards took a deep gulp of coffee, "Williamson! I want you in charge of intelligence, gather every bit about Potter that you can find. Tonks, I want you to join the stakeout team this time, and for Merlins sake put your klutziness aside! Shacklebolt and Dawlish, you are in charge of watching over the Death Eaters. I want seven teams to remain here in case of DE activity. They should be out making contact with each other, where one is, the other might show up. Now get! _Move those arses you dimwitted sods!"_

A mad dash for the coffee and the door happened; people were trampled on as they tried to squeeze out of the conference room. Robards took another gulp of coffee. It was going to be a long day.

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Harry snuck into the quiet market. Many of the vendors were still nursing cups of tea and could care less about a random man wandering around. He slid into Cyberdog, the only store that dared to blast music at glass shattering volumes this early in the morning. He smiled again at Hermione's intelligence, any wizard would fit in the muggle world once seen exiting this store. Although most wizards weren't partial to the new-age, neon space suits and glow-in-the-dark light up tees, robes would seem relatively normal compared to the outfits this store dreamed up. He sighed as he glanced around, memories flooding back to him. He remembered the first time he came here with Ron; Ron had found it hilarious that muggles would want to own disease plushies, and decided to try on the glowing skeleton bondage trousers. It seemed impossible to deter Ron from neon colours and reason exactly why Hermione wouldn't appreciate getting 'Athletes Foot', and no, it wouldn't make him better at Quidditch. He snapped out of his trance and decided that he had spent enough time staring into the store as the obscenely pierced cashier was glancing at him weirdly. He walked at a brisk pace into the store, twisting through the stone archways and rave lighted hallways. Once he reached a seemingly random corner, he smiled down at the mechanical alien that was still on display. Hermione was right again when she argued that no one in their right mind would purchase an ornamental robot alien for 9,000 pounds. Making sure that no one was around, he reached behind the displays head and counted three bricks up and two across, tapping the desired brick twice. He quickly withdrew his hand as the brick glowed briefly, he glanced around again, satisfied that no one had noticed, Harry proceeded to browse his way out of the store.

It was a nice day, and a crowd was guaranteed to show up later on. Speeding up his pace, Harry soon arrived at the food square. He glanced around as he wound his way through the tables, nothing had changed, not that he expected it to. The curry place was still there, as was the ice-cream vendor. Harry panicked slightly when he realized that it was already way past eight o'clock and quickly turned a corner only to be faced with a row of vending machines. Wincing slightly at the five machines, Harry took out a pound and placed it into the first one. Although the idea of the Drop Off first came as a quick but safe way to pass along messages or packages, safety and security of the item was a higher priority than the speed of collecting it. With that in mind, Hermione developed the idea of having the packages be shuffled between the machines, if Harry couldn't find it in three tries, the machines would revert back to regular vending machines and Harry would have to find another activation brick.

_D365_…_incorrect code,_ Harry's pound dropped back to him. Harry sighed, fingers starting to tingle from anticipation, _what if Hermione and Ron didn't leave him anything? What if they finally believed the presses?_ Harry winced and pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. Two more to go before he had to find the other brick, no reason to doubt Ron and Hermione yet. Harry moved onto the next machine and pushed the pound in again, hearing it clatter into the machine: _D365… … …incorrect code, _the pound dropped back down. Harry wiped his hands on his robes before he bent down to pick up his pound again. He glanced behind him at the clock that hung above the curry vendor, 8:25am. He really didn't have the time. He glanced behind him again, were there that many people before? He bit his lip as he moved onto the next machine; he should have woken up earlier. He sent up a prayer as he pushed in his pound again, _please Merlin, please._ Relief rushed through him as he heard a clattering sound from within the machine. _Thank god_. A coke can rolled out and Harry bent down to pick it up, cracking open the tab, the can transformed into a bag. Grinning from relief, Harry quickly unzipped the bag to find his wand lying on top of his invisibility cloak. He could nearly cry from the joy that he felt at finding his wand, he didn't realize how much he had missed it until now. Picking it up, a rush of warmth rolled over him, Harry shivered at the feeling – suddenly he heard a dozen pops echo behind him.

Twirling around, Harry's eyes widened in horror, he quickly dashed out of the corner, and kicking down a table, ducked behind it. Death Eaters!_ Fuck!_ He was screwed, he just escaped from Azkaban yesterday – there was no way he was strong enough magically or physically – especially after that climb yesterday. The table exploded and Harry gasped in pain as he felt several splinters enter his side – he quickly ran towards another table, hiding behind it. He was a fucking sitting duck; he couldn't even use his invisibility cloak as they knew where he was. Fuck, if only he was strong enough to apparate – and if only it didn't attract the Ministry. He glanced around the table, pulling his head back as a violently blue spell whizzed past. The curry vendor! It was the closest vendor, and the stone wall would provide better protection.

"Potter! Come out here you fool!" _Fuck, that's Lucius Malfoy._ Harry could have groaned if the situation wasn't so serious.

"Awww! Is the wee wittle Pwotter scwared?" _Fuck._ There was no fucking way that he could fight his way out now.

Taking a deep breath, Harry sent several blasting curses over the table before he made a mad dash for the curry vendor.

"_Crucio!_"

Harry ducked under the curse as he felt it singe his hair.

"_Expulso!_"

Harry quickly sent up a shield, hoping that it would hold as he continued to run blindly towards the vendor. He should have watched where he was going as he suddenly crashed into a tall, muscular body.

"Well, well, well, Potter. Still as blind as a bat I see."

Harry knew that voice, seven years of learning from that voice would make him recognize it anywhere.

Snape glared down at him, "Cease fire! I got him! Not so almighty now are you Potter?" Snape glared at him some more, and Harry felt his grip loosen ever so slightly.

Glancing up in confusion, Harry suddenly understood Snapes message as a crumpled piece of parchment landed in his fist. Biting his lip, and feeling quite sorry for Snape, Harry kicked him in the gut before he leaped over the vendor wall. Crouching down, Harry gasped in relief as several violet curses hit the wall above him, creating several craters.

"Potter you coward! Come out and fight! Hiding like the weakling you are won't delay your fate."

Harry cursed, he was outnumbered and weak, and they knew it. Glancing around, Harry spotted a jar of curry powder beside him. Hit by the sudden epiphany, Harry jumped back up and threw the jar towards the Death Eaters, aiming another blasting curse at it. He grinned as the curse hit the jar and shards of glass and clouds of curry powder rained down on the Death Eaters. Screams of pain could be heard as the powder landed in several of the Death Eaters eyes. Malfoy, Lestrange and Rookwood on the other hand, were smarter and quickly blew the powder away from their faces.

Suddenly, a dozen more pops could be heard as wizards in violently coloured robes apparated into the square. Harry's eyes widened as he recognized several of them, _aurors!_ Fuck, he was screwed.

"Fuck! Potter's made contact with the Death Eaters! Hand him over Lestrange!" Dawlish screamed at Bellatrix, she was probably the only one crazy enough to go around without a mask.

"Awwww, missing your wittle traitorwous Saviour? Come and get him Dawlish!_Crucio!_" As Bellatrixs spell hit an auror, all pandemonium went wild. As the Death Eater's concentration turned towards the aurors, and the aurors focused on capturing more Death Eaters, all attention turned away from Harry. Not believing his luck, Harry quickly donned his invisibility cloak and slipped away.

---------------------------

"Malfoy, you git!" Ron banged on the tall, ornate door. "Malfoy! Open up!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron and turned around. The view was amazing. The Malfoy villa stood on a slight hill that led to a private beach. The Mediterranean glistened in the morning sun and yachts could be seen dotting the water surface. Made of the purest white marble and decorated with blue French shutters and gold filigree, the villa was no less grand and extravagant as Malfoy Manor; even though one who has visited said Manor could tell that this was just a vacation home. Surprisingly enough, a gleaming black sports car could be seen hiding behind a grandiose fountain of an angel saving a man.

The door creaked open and Hermione frowned down at the withered looking house elf peeping up at them.

"Master Draco isn't up yet, sir and madam. He's asking Tibby to go open the door."

Ron glanced down at the pathetic looking creature, seemingly surprised that the house elf would answer the door. Regaining his posture, he pushed the house elf aside and walked into the foyer.

"If he can send you down here, he can come down too. MALFOY! You ferret, get down here!"

Hermione walked in after Ron, sending Tibby an apologetic smile. The foyer was equally grand, though the style was more modern and elegant than Malfoy Manor. Hermione wouldn't be surprised if this villa was built to suit the Lady Malfoy's needs more than the Lord Malfoy's. The hallway was light and airy, it continued straight through the villa, occasionally branching off into separate rooms, ending in a pair of French doors that led into a cour d'honneur. There, the hallway diverged into the east and west wings of the villa. The doors were open, the white curtains blowing gently in the warm breeze, contrasting beautifully with the blue scenery. In front of the doors was a grand, floating staircase that bent around a classic chandelier, leading up to the second floor. Ron walked up to the staircase, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

"Malfoy! You bloody, lazy arse! Get up!"

Hermione glanced down at her watch; she had to spend a fortune getting a decent mechanical one so that it'd work in magical areas. It was just past ten; one would expect Malfoy to be up already.

"Malfoy! You stuck-up pompous git! Get down here!"

A thump echoed from upstairs followed by some faint cursing. Hermione smirked, apparently Malfoy was up.

Ron turned back to her and gave her a proud grin, "Well, the ferret's up."

"Weasel you uncouth mongrel!" Draco Malfoy stumbled, in all his elegance and couture clothing, onto the second floor balcony. "Tibby! I want a Headache Potion, and get us some tea. Come on, let's go to the sitting room, unlike you Weasel, I know how to show some manners. Granger, it's nice to see you."

Ron reddened in anger at Malfoy as the heir descended the stairs. "Unlike you Malfoy, I don't spend my time wasting away in bed."

Malfoy smirked at this as he reached the bottom of the stairs and turned down the hallway, leading them into a robin blue sitting room furnished with white couches and side tables.

"I don't spend my time in bed wasting away Weasley; I'm very productive in bed." Malfoy flopped down on the couch after sending an arrogant smirk towards Ron, and rubbed at his temples, "Sit." He waved his hand flippantly towards the other couch.

Hermione nudged Ron, who had gone slightly red at Malfoy's innuendo, onto the couch, "You're looking well Draco."

Malfoy sighed in happiness as Tibby appeared with a Headache Potion and a platter of tea. After downing the potion, Malfoy absently waved his wand at the tea set, pouring three cups. "Don't say anything Granger; you know I don't care about your House Elf liberation rights. I have a hangover, it was Saturday last night. What're you two doing here? I don't remember inviting you over."

"Yes well, about that," Hermione shifted in her seat, "Harry's done it."

Malfoy sat up at that, his stormy grey eyes going wide. "Harry's escaped? Finally?"

Hermione gave Malfoy a pointed stare. "You expected him to escape from Azkaban?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Well, yes, it is Harry. He's fought down a dozen aurors before. That and he said he had a plan."

"A plan? And he didn't tell us?"

Malfoy huffed at Ron, "Harry has plenty of secrets that he hid form you over the years. He told me that he would think of something, but I think Azkaban got to him. Knowing Harry, he wouldn't willingly stay in Azkaban for over three years. I didn't plan on staying in France for three years."

Ron glared at Malfoy again, "I'm not daft you know, I know there are plenty of things that you and Harry did that Harry wouldn't tell us. But he would tell us a way to escape from Azkaban."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to give a retort when a sound in the hallway caught his attention. Lifting his hand up to indicate silence, Hermione heard a feminine voice calling out Malfoy's name as footsteps approached the door. When the sitting room door opened, Hermione blushed and quickly averted her eyes from the half-naked female form. Decked only in skimpy lingerie and draped in a silk robe, the modelesque figure stalked up behind Draco and bent down, placing a kiss on Draco's neck. Draco twisted his head to the side as the girl whispered something into his ear. Ron, Hermione deduced from a quick glance over her left shoulder, was valiantly trying to act normal, only to fail miserably as his eyes popped out of his head when a second, equally curvaceous, equally slender, equally half-naked model entered the room. Draco glanced up as the second model entered.

"Excuse me for a second."

Right before he exited the door, he took a pause, "Like I said Weasley, very productive." With that, he grabbed both the models' hands and dragged them out of the room.

"Lucky bastard."

"Ron!" Hermione's face went hot when she heard Ron's words. It hurt and embarrassed her. _God_,_ Ron was such a daft, insensitive bugger._

Ron took a glance at her, "Sorry…" He paused and glanced back at his lap, mumbling, "How is that even possible? You can't shag two girls at once."

Hermione looked at him in shock, her logical mind, despite her unwillingness, tried to work out the problem.

Ron looked up again, "I thought he was dating Roxy."

Hermione was spared from answering as Malfoy walked back into the room. "I don't do dating, we're safe. I sent them back to wherever."

Hermione frowned in disapproval, "Yes, apparently you're much happier whoring yourself around France."

Ron grinned at her remark while Draco's glare intensified. "Look, are we here to discuss Harry or my nightlife? If it's the latter, you may kindly remove yourself from my presence. I got enough crap from Harry and the girls who bawl their eyes out at me."

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Don't you just love Daft Punk and Kanye West? And Malfoy? Hopefully I did him justice.

Anyway, this chapter was meant to be longer… a lot longer actually. But I've decided to keep the ideas that I have for the next chapter so I can keep this fic going instead of stopping for a long, long time. I stop for a long time anyway, but that's what real life does to you. Like I said, the plot comes as I write, even though I plan out a bit; I tend to be nearly as clueless as you…well, not that clueless. And the reason for why my chapters tend to be short is because I'm not akin to writing long stuff, I started out as a poet, of the Wordsworthian type, not the Chaucerian. In other words, Im used to writing really descriptive, elaborate, short lines, but not long stories. Not that you see descriptive short lines here.

I hate it when someone updates only to have like, half the update be an a/n, so I'll try to answer some things. About the Harry climbing up the wall thing, I realized after I posted it that it's quite a feat. But it really isn't as hard as you think, the way Harry climbed up is called the 'chimney climb', I think. Anyway, by having two walls close together, you can, essentially, place a foot on each wall, and using that force, push yourself up by your legs. As your legs contain more muscles and strength than your arms, and as it's easier to push than to pull, climbing up that building is relatively easier – although tiring nonetheless. However, keep in mind that Harry kind of has a rest stop every time he reaches a balcony. If you're not sure what I'm talking about, check out The Matrix, not sure whether it was one or two, but when they're escaping from the agents, before Morpheus gets caught – I think they're doing what Harry is doing, 'cept they're going down instead of up. Don't really remember.

Another strange thing that comes in mind – does Azkaban really affect you that much physically? Remember, Sirius was stuck in Azkaban for twelve years and managed to swim across the North Sea. Either way, I tried to make the consequences of Harry's climb apparent in this chapter. Thanks for pointing it out.

And I don't have anything against the French, but it's quite a well known fact that the French and the British have a rather...competitive relationship.

K, info and stuff bout this chapter you might be interested in. There is, in fact, a Cyberdog in Camden Market that does sell rather…unique clothing. I hope I did it justice as I don't really remember what Camden Market is like. But I've always imagined that wizards would hang out in Camden, the whole place just reeks of that aura. And I don't remember any vending machines there, but for the sake of this story… Anyway, you can check out Camden Market from their website, though, I personally don't think that the website does it justice. And interesting tidbit, if you didn't know, Camden started out as a stable, though I'm not too sure when it changed into a market, I think it was in the like, seventies or something, so back in Voldemorts age, it'd still, essentially, be a 'pigsty'.

If you wanted something to help you with the imagery or are just curious: (remove the spaces inbetween)

Cyberdog: w w w. c y b e r d o g . c o . u k ----- the 'disease stuffies' are under the accessories section, they're the cutest things ever.

The Malfoy fountain statue: h t t p / b l o g . g i l s o n g a g n o n . c o m / i n d e x . p h p ? s h o w i m a g e 6 7

Malfoy's car (cept it's silver in this picture): h t t p / e n . w i k i p e d i a . o r g / w i k i / I m a g e : S p y k e r . j p g

Also, a 'cour d'honneur' is a three sided courtyard, if you're still confused, look it up wiki, and check out 'corps de logis' while you're at it as this is the basic layout of the Malfoy villa. However, knowing random bits like this won't really matter with the fic in general.

Anyway, thanks for all the reviews! Much appreciated. And since you've read, Review some more!


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